


On 59th and Lexington

by The_Virgoan_Diaries



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mentions of Rape (Trigger Warning), recollections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Virgoan_Diaries/pseuds/The_Virgoan_Diaries
Summary: And, just six months later, he’d fallen apart all over again…





	On 59th and Lexington

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a little one-shot, about four-hundred words. About A.D.A. Rafael Barba, the current fan favourite of SVU. This one-shot is quite troubling and tragic and showcases the classic angst. There are, I warn, no happy endings here.
> 
> A/N: There are mentions of rape and sexual assault. This will, of course, be tagged as a trigger warning (T.W.). Also: This one-shot features an original character (”Candace”/“Candy”) with whom Barba has had a history. 
> 
> And I will definitely write more SVU stuff! Between Barba and Carisi, I have an abundance of ideas! <3

“Now, Benson, Candace McCullough may be many different things, but a liar, I’m certain, is not one of them.”

Rafael took another quick, careless swig of coffee. House blend. Wasn't his favourite. Besides, it had been made too weak, but it _was_ enough to energize him. Power him through another case. And a rather tough one.

One that hit too close to home. One that tested his refinement.

The report. The rape-kit results. The _overwhelming presence of semen in her underwear_. Rafael had clenched both fists. Clenched his teeth. Held back tears. And underneath the masquerade expected of an Assistant District Attorney was a desire to hurt those pigs. To _kill_ them. God knows he would have. In an instant.

_Wait ‘til I see those bastards in court…_

He attempted to keep his emotions in check all throughout the excruciating half-hour consultation with Benson. The sub-par coffee, though, had given him the shakes, and therefore, more chances for recklessness.

“So,” Benson suggested, “you’ve worked with her before?”

“Not exactly _work_.” His exhausted gaze met the polished mahogany of his desk. “I knew her. Quite well.”

Rafael sensed the curiosity that bubbled in Benson’s eyes. Silence made the office stale. His coffee grew cold.

His eyes wandered into the distance, blank. Going nowhere. His mind, meanwhile, travelled through a thousand images. Went through a thousand more memories.

Candace McCullough. The cheery girl with the soft thighs. And majestic lips. Rafael referred to her as Candy.

 _His_ Candy.

She was the young eccentric who, every Thursday, hung around the station on 59th and Lexington. Singing. Strumming that Dreadnought guitar which, Rafael assumed, had been the only thing of value she’d left home with. Often, he would place a crisp twenty-dollar bill beside her, and occasionally make conversation. _“You have a pretty nice voice. You need a gig.”_

He’d offered her a temporary home. Living alongside him. And they prepared meals. Drank from Rafael’s ample liquor cabinet. And they'd make love. Slowly. Savouring every moment. Shedding some tears after climax. _“You were great."_

He’d been too proud to admit that he loved her. His actions, though — including the tears shed after making love — had only made the words more unneeded.

She left. Out of the blue. Returned to performing for change between 59th and Lexington. And Rafael purposely avoided that particular station. Especially on Thursdays. He made it a habit to walk home.

And, just six months later, he’d fallen apart all over again… Seeing her name. On that dreaded report. Written in ink: _McCullough, Candace, Marie. 20. Victim of Sexual Assault._


End file.
